


The Wedding Night

by RainbowCosmos



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Awkward Peter, Bastard men but make them wholesome, First Time, Getting Together, M/M, Minor Injury Description, Porn With Plot, Spoilers for Episode 159, Trans Elias Bouchard, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:35:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22788808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowCosmos/pseuds/RainbowCosmos
Summary: "Peter was surprised when Elias stepped aside and allowed him into their honeymoon suite. Ever since the incident on their first date, their relationship had been built on Elias shutting him out for the night."An exploration of how Peter and Elias came to be married. And what happened after.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas
Comments: 16
Kudos: 224





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey whats up sex doesn't happen until chapter three because I'm a slut for backstory anyway ily <3
> 
> Shoutout to the wonderful [Atticus](https://atticuu-main.tumblr.com/) for beta reading!!

Peter had known him since he was James. Since Peter’d been forced to take an interest in the Lukas family sponsorship of the institute in the early 90s. He didn’t really like James that much, but he had always found it hard to get along with anyone who was that much older than him. Or, anyone full stop.

Elias felt different, somehow. Peter wasn’t stupid, he knew it was still Jonah in there, but he wore Elias differently than he wore James. Peter had no idea whether the host body’s original personality had any bearing on the behaviour, or if Jonah was just re-invigorated by a younger body, but Elias acted differently. 

Flirty, sometimes, for one. 

Elias was more tactile from the beginning, helping Peter shrug off his big overcoat at the start of their first meeting after he’d taken over the directorial position at the institute in ‘96. Elias had taken a moment to smooth his hands over Peter’s broad shoulders. Peter had barely contained a shiver as the warmth seeped through the protective fog dusting his skin. 

Elias sat with a more relaxed posture, showing off the slight lines of his new body. Where James had been taller, body curving and sagging with age, Elias was almost spritely, nothing but straight lines and well-tailored clothing. It made Peter self-conscious about his own figure, broad all around with a belly beginning to come in to match. Though he couldn’t have been that much older than Elias.

Suddenly, it was as though Peter was compelled to compare himself to every aspect of Elias that he could never hope to emulate. The quick, dextrous motions of his fingers, his remarkable social skills- never avoiding eye contact, never ranting on as he struggled to find the right words. And as Elias stood to see him out of the office, Peter definitely couldn’t argue that the well-tailored trousers hugged his slim body perfectly. 

Still, it was a passing fancy. A sharp smile and a nice pair of legs may be able to hold his attention in the moment, but Peter had forgotten all about Elias Bouchard by the time the Tundra had left port that evening.

-

When Peter had returned to London eight months later, however, seeing the name Elias on his day planner had him calling back memories of the brief appreciative glimpses he’d allowed himself. And yes, maybe Peter had, in turn, dressed in his best sweater, but nobody could prove that wasn’t a coincidence.

When Peter had entered Elias’ office, however, he found the man far more underdressed than their last meeting.

Elias’ jacket was thrown haphazardly over the back of his grand office chair- which is much more imposing than the visitor’s chair- his light blue collared shirt had the top few buttons undone. Elias paced back and forth behind his grand desk, looking positively manic as he clutched a wad of gauze against the bloody mess on his forearm. His shirt sleeves had been shoved up haphazardly past his elbows, but they hadn’t managed to avoid the staining blood entirely. As Elias turned to look at Peter, he held an almost unhinged energy in his eyes, and Peter could feel them boring into him like a drill from 10 feet away.

Elias stared at him for a long moment and let out a tired sigh.

“Close the door, would you?” Elias spoke, and Peter obeyed, and then he recognised the bruising beginning to form over Elias’ cheekbone, knowing it would lead to a black eye.

“Who did this to you?” Peter stepped closer, acting on an instinct he wasn’t sure he’d ever had before. He gingerly held the wrist of Elias’ injured arm, and brought it closer when Elias allowed him to.

“I had a meeting scheduled with a few members of the church of the lightless flame.” Elias flinched when Peter slowly drew the gauze back from the wound on his arm. Peter flinched when he saw the burn that was so harsh it sunk into Elias’ arm, an indentation in the shape of a handprint, like Elias was nothing more than sand for someone to push their fingers into.

Peter held the mess of gauze in his hand, entirely unsure why Elias had decided to treat the wound so ineffectively. It was hardly bleeding anymore, giving way to blistering, and Peter supposed it was the rush of adrenaline. He spied a big box of first aid supplies scattered over the desk and was suddenly thankful for all the wound care he’d had to learn caring for himself as he grew up.

“So what did you do to them?” Peter asked as he removed the delicate watch from Elias’ wrist with fingers that had never felt more bumbling in his life. Burns can swell quickly, as he had learned the hard way when trying to cook his own dinner at age 9. Peter picked up a small spray bottle of disinfectant and pointed it at Elias’ arm, spraying liberally around the wound.

“What?” Elias snapped at him, hissing with the sting of the spray. Peter supposed his lonely disposition didn’t allow him a good bedside manor.

“Well, they nearly burned your arm clean off,” Peter put the bottle back and began to unwrap a clean, non-adhesive bandage pad. “Surely you didn’t just let them walk out of here scott-free.”

Elias was quiet for a long moment, glaring as Peter laid the bandage over the wound as gently as his big fingers would allow.

“Today wasn’t the time for retribution. They had me outnumbered. It wouldn’t have ended well.” Elias was being curt and staring a hole in the floor. Peter was suddenly struck with the realisation that their demeanors had swapped since their first meeting.

Peter handed Elias a fresh roll of gauze to wrap up the arm, not at all trusting his own lack of dexterity to allow him to do it himself. And then he headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” Elias called after him, wrapping himself up a little awkwardly with one hand.

“I have some business to take care of.”

“You have business to take care of here, we do have a meeting scheduled, you know?”

“I’ll have to reschedule. I’ll be in tomorrow.”

Peter could hear Elias huff in annoyance as he ducked out the door.

-

When Peter had returned a day later, Elias’ black eye had all but healed, the skin taut and the bruise yellowing. He supposed that was a perk of being such an integral asset to your deity.

“So,” Elias rose to greet him and Peter saw the slight bulge of the gauze under the sleeve of his shirt. “Did you sort that business out.”

“Why yes, I did.” Peter replied as he slipped his own coat off and hung it on the rack by the doorway. “I forgot that I had an urgent meeting to attend with one mister Clayton Hopkins.”

Elias froze behind his desk, stood still as Peter took his own seat in the visitor’s chair.

“You recognise the name then?” Peter asked. “I suppose I shouldn’t expect any less from a resource of the beholding.”

“What did you do to him?” Elias sank into his grand chair slowly, hand coming up to touch gently at the burn on his arm. He peered over the expanse of the desk and Peter could feel the weight of his interested stare like a blanket.

“Nothing too special, he just looked like the kind of person who would enjoy a trip to the beach. And I happen to have a very  _ private  _ beach.” 

Elias’ whole chest swelled with his next breath, and Peter watched as the sharp smile from their first meeting spread back over his face. Elias looked almost excited, Peter noted with a rising glee of his own.

Elias bit his lip almost imperceptibly as his eyes raked up and down Peter where he sat in the uncomfortable desk chair.

“Why don’t I take you to dinner?” Elias was leaning over his desk now, the hungry glint in his eye returning. 

-

After dinner, Peter had insisted on having his valet drive Elias home. Elias invited Peter in for a quick drink, promising a glass of a fine red that would have Peter shunning the cheap stuff he generally preferred.

Peter had barely shut the large, mahogany front door behind him when he turned and found Elias sidled up well into his personal space. Elias stared up at him through his eyelashes which, Peter hadn’t noticed until now, were long and delicate just like the rest of him. Elias’ hand came to rest on the centre of Peter’s chest, barely needing to exert any force at all to get Peter to back up against the solid wood of the door. His hand slid up Peter’s chest to the collar of his cable knit sweater, fine fingers dancing over the grooves of the deep blue fabric. It reminded Peter of the wake settling over the top of a wave as his ship pushed through the dark waters.

Elias barely tugged on the fabric of the sweater, but Peter allowed himself to be guided anyway. He bent slightly, following Elias’ gentle urging, bringing himself within reach for Elias to push up onto his toes and kiss him.

Elias’ lips were warm and soft and dry against Peter’s, and he had no doubt that he felt cold and rough to Elias. Having served its purpose at the collar of Peter’s sweater, Elias’ hand slid back down to the intricate patterns over Peter’s chest, tracing them with fine fingers, so lightly that Peter could barely feel the movement.

Peter allowed his hands to wrap around Elias, enjoying the way his slight waist felt under Peter’s broad palms. Under the weight of Peter’s hands, Elias swayed forward into the embrace, rocking up so that his whole body was pressed against Peter, who was in turn pressed against the door.

One of Peter’s hands slid up to cup the back of Elias’ neck and he let out a small hum against Peter’s lips, parting his own and deepening the kiss between them.

It would be generous to say that Peter didn’t have much experience with kissing. What few trysts he’d allowed himself in the past had been hurried, awkward affairs that had ended as quickly as they’d begun, with neither party knowing the other’s name. He lamented on this as Elias drew the moment out, longer, slower, with deliberately placed movements of his tongue against Peter’s lips and teeth. 

Peter had no idea what to do with his mouth. He had read somewhere once that you should write out the alphabet with your tongue. He got as far as ‘G’ before he felt Elias huff a quiet laugh against his mouth and pull back to bite gently, and then not so gently, at Peter’s lip.

Peter gasped against the empty air when Elias pulled back, hands still pressed against his broad chest. Peter flushed at the amusement that was clear on Elias’ face.

“You haven’t done this much, have you?” Elias asked as he helped Peter out of his coat before shrugging off his own. He hung them both up on an elaborate coat rack in the foyer.

“Well, you know my lonely disposition,” Peter flustered at Elias’ comment about his lack of finesse. “I have a particular talent for avoiding intimacy.”

Elias only hummed at that and led him by his hand into the nearby sitting room. Elias lined him up in front of a particularly decorative settee and laid both hands on his chest, pushing Peter backwards. Peter was certain that if he wanted to resist, he could definitely overpower Elias, but he was completely out of his depth and already overwhelmed. That, and he was happy enough to go along with it.

Elias stood before him, posture projecting an attitude of confidence as he looked down at where Peter sat on the lounge, legs spread from the fall, awkwardly splayed and not daring to move as Elias worked in front of him. Elias began by loosening his own tie, a simple grey thing with no pattern. And then he undid the top two buttons of his shirt, his expression turned to a leer. Peter felt his own pulse, somehow, skyrocket even further. He could feel sweat beading on the back of his neck, and his mouth went completely dry as Elias undid his cuffs and rolled them neatly up his forearms a few times, exposing the bandage on one arm.

And then Elias deposited himself in Peter’s lap, and Peter could feel his cheeks heat up so quickly he thought he might pass out.

Peter rarely felt warmth like that of Elias pressed close to him, pushing the fog of the lonely further and further from Peter’s grip. It made Peter shift uncomfortably in his seat as he reached out desperately to hold his patron close.

Elias dove back in to kiss him, but swerved at the last moment to nibble lightly at Peter’s neck. Peter felt the soft lips and sharp teeth and the brush of Elias’ cheek pushing his stubble the wrong way. Every sensation felt as though it were chosen specifically to send a wave of goosebumps over Peter’s entire body. His head was swimming and his hands came up to clutch desperately at Elias’ hips, trying to anchor himself in reality as the rush of warmth threatened to wash him away.

Elias ground down against his lap and Peter couldn’t help but gasp into the silence of the sitting room.

“Well hello there, sailor.” Elias said, lips moving against Peter’s jawline. Peter felt a thrill run up his spine at the name. He could hardly breathe. Elias pulled back and Peter gasped again to see Elias’ pupils blown wide, eyes half-lidded and staring directly through him. “Why don’t you take me to bed?”

And then Peter disappeared.

He slipped instinctively into the lonely, allowing the fog to rush back into his lungs, catching his breath once again, finally feeling as though he could breathe. He paced back and forth through the alternate dimension of Elias’ sitting room as his pulse returned to normal and the bracing chill took him once more. He felt himself slowly soften in his trousers.

Somewhere, distantly, he knew Elias would be pissed that he had just vanished.

But he’d had to. With every passing second he spent pressed under the solid weight of Elias, he could feel his ties with his deity straining. Even after all of these years as an avatar, this was not a test that his faith had to endure before, and it was one that Peter knew he’d have to take slower than this. 

So Peter took a deep breath, and returned to the car out front without his coat and with no goodbye.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just quick filler plot that didn't Vibe Thematically with either the story before or after lmao

When the Tundra docked once more in London, it had been a whole year since the incident. Peter had long since stopped dwelling on it, but every so often he would find himself in his cramped bunk in the late evenings, thinking about the trail of lips and teeth over his neck. The tinge of humiliation at his actions had only driven his own hand faster over his arousal.

So when Peter saw the hastily scribbled ‘Elias Bouchard - 4pm’ in his day planner, he very nearly called the ship back to sea, several days prematurely.

He let out a long sigh when he remembered that they hadn’t actually renegotiated the contracts during the last meeting after all, so he would be required to attend at this point.

He knocked on Elias’ door, perhaps quieter than he’d meant to, like he could slip away if Elias didn’t hear and call him in.

“Come in, Peter.” Came the voice through the wood. Damned beholding types.

“Hello Elias,” Peter greeted with a false joviality in his voice. “Good to see you again.”

“I presume you’re here because the Lukas estate is dissatisfied with the current contract, not to apologise.” Elias didn’t even stand to greet him, barely even lifted his eyes from his paperwork, so Peter shrugged off his own coat.

“You’re right. Intimacy is, uh… not something I’m practiced in.” Peter took a seat across from Elias, noting his rigid and closed posture, projecting an air of stubbornness. “Let me take you to dinner tonight.”

Peter didn’t phrase it as a question and he watched as Elias’ eyes rolled. When they returned to him, Elias was silent for a long moment, eyes skimming over every detail of his features. Peter could feel himself being analysed under a metaphorical microscope, could feel the eye poking holes in his lonely exterior. 

Elias let out a short sigh and his posture relaxed infinitesimally. 

“I suppose as long as you don’t disappear when the cheque comes.”

-

Peter walked him to his door once again, under the guise of asking Elias for his coat back. “One can never have too many coats at sea, Elias.” He had said. Elias had rolled his eyes.

Peter waited on the front step while Elias retrieved it from the closet and brought it back out. He took it graciously.

“Well…” Peter trailed off, smiling into the awkward silence between them. He stared straight at the ground, unsure what to say.

“There’s a new exhibition at the Estorick Collection of Modern Italian Art in Canonbury square.” Elias said, apparently not finding conversation as hard as Peter. “I’ve heard it is a real flop. Positively deserted except for the artist, who spends days wandering among his pieces hoping that  _ someone _ will come along and patronise his works.”

Peter could feel his smile growing and he finally looked up at Elias.

“The Tundra is docked for a few more days, I’ve heard.” Elias’ arms are crossed, his posture defensive. “Would you like to go with me?”

Peter was grinning so widely that his cheeks hurt.

“I would be delighted!” For a rare moment, the boisterousness in his voice was not forced. “Pick you up at lunch tomorrow?”

Peter could see that Elias was fighting a small smile of his own.

“Alright. Just wear something nicer than that.”

Peter’s grin didn’t falter for a moment, and he felt himself being drawn towards Elias like a magnet. He bent slightly and stepped closer to Elias, eyes trained on his lips.

When he let his eyes shut and went in to kiss Elias, Peter felt the front door shut in his face.

It didn’t dampen his spirits in the least.

-

They continued like this for just over a year. Peter somehow found himself with more business in London than usual; he’d stop by to take Elias to lunch every few months or so. Elias would usually have an activity in mind that he knew Peter would either love or despise, with very little middle ground. 

Peter would walk him back to his front door, they would kiss goodnight, and Elias would leave him on the stoop, hands itching to grab Elias and pull him back into an embrace. Peter loved the hollow void in his gut after those goodbyes.

He loved them so much that one night, Peter managed to grab Elias’ hand just as the door was closing between them.

“Wait!” He’d said, just a little panicked that Elias would continue to shut him out. It rushed up his spine in a wave of energy and he felt himself grow closer to his deity than ever before.

Elias didn’t shut the door, but he took a long moment to turn back to Peter, a detached amusement in his eyes that made Peter’s heart sing.

Peter had gotten down on one knee, in the empty night which was always puzzlingly quiet for London, lit only by the grand lights seeping out from Elias’ foyer. The ring box he’d pulled from his coat had been a dark blue crushed velvet, and had contained a deceptively plain silver ring. Elias had let it slip (purposefully) a few months ago that silver was his colour.

Elias had taken the ring from the box without saying a word to Peter, and had slipped it on his finger, holding his hand outstretched before him to admire the glint of the metal in the low light surrounding them. It fit him perfectly, but Elias had subtly implanted his ring size in Peter’s head, so he was not at all surprised. Elias took in every inch of Peter, frozen on his knees as Elias loomed over him- a novelty considering their usual height difference. And then he’d bent forward, cushioned Peter’s face in both of his hands, the metal of his new ring growing cold where it touched his  _ fiance’s _ skin, and kissed him deeply.

Peter had been grinning insufferably when Elias pulled back. Even Peter felt it was insufferable, but he found himself quite unable to beat it down in the moment.

Elias helped him back onto his feet. They kissed once more, for another long moment.

And then Elias closed the door on him for real, muttering something about wedding planners, and Peter’s grin refused to budge.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayy they fuck in this one what up
> 
> Please dont judge me for making these bastard men Soft

Their honeymoon suite was just as decadent as the ceremony and reception had been. Though, honestly, Peter was surprised when Elias stepped aside and allowed him to follow him in. Ever since the incident on their first date, their relationship had been built on Elias shutting him out for the night. Peter had honestly planned to spend the evening on his ship.

But Elias was shrugging off his tuxedo jacket onto the back of the plush lounge in their room, taking off his shoes, and fetching two expensive-looking crystalware glasses and a chilled bottle of champagne. 

Peter shut the door behind him and raised an eyebrow at Elias as he took his own coat off.

“You’re getting soft.” Peter said as he kicked off his own shoes before collapsing gracelessly onto the bed. It was huge and soft, dressed in black silk sheets and a deep red duvet. “I’m used to ending an evening with the door shut in my face.”

Elias huffed out a laugh and Peter could hear him coming closer.

“Well, it is our wedding night.” Elias perched on the bed beside him, handing over a delicate glass.

“I wouldn’t have figured you’d be so sentimental.” Peter propped himself up to take a swig of the drink, watching the delicate column of Elias’ neck stretch as he tipped his head back to take a sip of his own. “Wanting to spend the night with me? I can’t promise I’ll be good at cuddling.”

“I don’t much care where you choose to spend the night.” Elias said, flippantly, as he snatched the half-full glass from Peter’s hand and deposited them both on the bedside table. “But I do want to sleep with you.”

It took Peter an embarrassingly long moment to catch on to Elias’ meaning.

But when Elias saw the realisation dawn in Peter’s eyes, he placed a firm hand to Peter’s chest and pushed him back, flat onto the bed.

Elias stalked forwards and climbed onto Peter’s lap, immediately reminding Peter of their first date. He was sure he would do better this time; like a snake charmer slowly envenomating themself to be resistant to the bite of their animal, so too had Peter spent years tasting minute pieces of Elias’ affection to prepare himself for this moment.

Elias leaned in for a kiss and all coherent thought rushed from Peter’s mind.

They had practice at this; Peter had spent time improving his kissing skills, he knew what to do with his tongue now, where to nibble to drive a shiver up Elias’ back, how exactly to coax his tongue to rub almost needily against his own. Peter’s broad hands came to rest on Elias’ thin hips, holding Elias firmly against him.

The charted territory ended there, however, as Elias began to slowly undo Peter’s bow tie. It had taken him a ridiculous amount of time to tie properly, but as Elias used it to leverage Peter closer, deeper into the kiss, he found that he couldn’t care less about it. The way Elias was kissing him was unfamiliar, and Peter distantly realised that it hadn’t been this needy, this  _ filthy _ since their first date.

Soon, those clever fingers detoured, trailing down to pop open Peter’s shirt buttons one by one. Elias hummed into the kiss and pressed his whole body against Peter. Peter’s hands moved to rest on Elias’ thighs, where he could feel the muscles coiled with the effort to hold himself back from rocking in Peter’s lap. His big thumbs slipped around to the inside of Elias’ thighs, and began to massage along the seam where the fabric met. Elias moaned into his mouth, quietly and quickly, but it set Peter’s blood boiling. He had to hear more.

Elias had just managed to get Peter’s shirt entirely undone when those broad hands came back to his waist, gripping him firmly. And then Peter flipped them over. He threw Elias down onto the plush bed, watching him bounce just a little among the sheets with a hungry look in his eye. And then Peter was over him, leveraging Elias’ spread legs open even further so that he could settle between them. Peter pushed his hips down, pinning Elias to the bed and leaving the entirety of their bodies pressed together.

Elias wriggled beneath him and Peter had to bite back a swear.

Elias found the open fabric of Peter’s shirt and pushed it aside, forcing it off his shoulders and exposing him for Elias’ hungry gaze. His fingers, thin and nimble, as Peter had always admired them, raked slowly through the thick expanse of silvering chest hair over Peter’s pecs. His short nails dragged ever-so-lightly over the pale skin, and when that drew a quick shudder from the man above him, they dug in harder and left angry red lines in the wake of their petting.

Peter groaned lowly and leaned forward, burying his noises into the soft skin of Elias’ neck. And then he bit down, hard. 

It was like Elias had been struck by lightning. 

Elias struggled underneath him, hips bucking at the sensation, chest heaving wildly as he tried to catch his breath. Peter’s teeth eased back but he stayed latched on. He sucked harshly, marking up his new husband in a much more primal way than their rings could ever compete with. Elias’ moans were beginning to sound like a low growl, and it drew a returning rumble from deep within Peter’s chest. Elias was squirming under him in perfect rhythm with the rude attacks on his neck, and Peter could hear him gasping loudly into the quiet of the bedroom.

Peter pulled back to catch his breath and examine his work, his own chest bumping against Elias’ as they both struggled to even out their breathing. 

Elias laid beneath him, writhing just slightly against the deep colours of the bed sheets, his chest pushed against the well-fitted, thin fabric of his formal shirt as he gasped for breath. The soft, perfect skin of his neck had been blemished with a love bite so harsh that Peter could see the individual teeth marks shining through the mottled bruise. Finally, he pulled his eyes up to meet Elias’. The pupils were blown so wide that Peter could see none of the colour, and Peter could feel himself falling helplessly into them as they ate up every detail of his being.

And then the world was tumbling.

Or, maybe it was just Peter.

Peter’s back hit the bed with a muffled thump, and Elias was back on his lap in a movement so quick that Peter had no hope of countering it. Not that he was complaining too much, his husband made an attractive lapful.

Elias had yet to steady his breathing when he brought his own hands to the collar of his shirt and ripped it open. Peter’s eyes widened at the display and Elias made a noise that was very definitely a growl this time. He shrugged off the offending material and Peter took the opportunity to allow himself a long, appreciative look at the smooth, straight lines of his husband’s chest.

Elias’ hand returned to Peter’s chest hair, this time scratching further down his torso, following the thick trail until it stopped right above his belt. Elias hummed and held Peter’s gaze as he ran his fingers through the wiry hair just peeking out over the buckle.

And then his fingers slipped just a little lower, undoing the buckle with a small click, and much more ease and dexterity than Peter had ever managed himself.

Elias licked his lips as he pulled down Peter’s zipper, crawling down his body until he hovered over the tented fabric of Peter’s pants. When Elias parted his fly, Peter could feel the warmth of his breath through the thin layer of his briefs, and he couldn’t help but ache at the thought of being surrounded by that wet heat.

Elias nudged him with his nose first, kissing along Peter’s still-covered cock with the lightest touch designed to drive him crazy. Peter propped himself up on shaky elbows to peer down at his husband, only to find him looking back with an intensity that Peter had never seen outside of those rare moments when Elias had to completely _ devour _ some new information.

Elias finally decided to hook his fingers in the waistband of Peter’s trousers and briefs and tug them both down enough to expose him. Elias gave a pleased hum when Peter sprang free and came to rest, clearly aroused, against his own stomach. Elias ran one hand up and down the length, stimulating it so lightly that Peter could hardly tell if he was imagining it. Elias was licking his lips again as Peter watched him eye his cock.

Peter knew he was on the larger side of average, if he were being modest. Perhaps the larger side of ‘large’ if he were being candid. Elias looked as though he were inclined to agree. But Peter noted with a tinge of amusement that, while Elias looked pleased enough with the size, he did not look at all surprised. As good a use as any for his beholding powers, Peter supposed.

Elias had always been warm compared to the thin layer of fog that kept Peter cool to the touch, but as Elias flattened his tongue against the underside of Peter’s cock and dragged it slowly upwards, Peter could feel the touch like fire spreading through his veins. He gasped loudly into the air, hips bucking instinctively like he’d been burned, though he pushed himself closer to the source, not further from it. Elias smirked up at him, which he managed to pull off surprisingly well considering he still had a cock against his lips.

Much to Peter’s chagrin, Elias pulled off and began to stalk up along Peter’s body, without ever actually sucking him off.

“Wouldn’t want you to get too excited,” Elias spoke lowly, brushing his nose against Peter’s beard as he searched out a delicate spot on his throat to nibble. “I still want you to fuck me.”

Peter ran his hands up Elias’ thighs where they were once again bracketing his hips, massaging lightly at the tense muscle through the fabric as he worked his way up. Elias was just beginning to squirm on top of him when Peter redirected his hands to Elias’ hips and once again threw him back onto the bed.

“I suppose that can be arranged.” Peter mumbled as he set to work undoing Elias’ trousers. He managed it with less flair and much less ease than Elias had exhibited on Peter’s, but he got the job done, and he didn’t hesitate once in pulling all the fabric down Elias’ thin legs and throwing it in a heap on the floor behind him. He kicked his own pants off too, leaving them both naked in their marital bed.

As he came back to push their bodies together once more, he did hesitate.

Elias was looking at him intensely, but Peter could tell from the way his chin twitched that he longed to look anywhere else. Peter knew that feeling well. Elias’ brows were furrowed lightly and his shoulders had hunched inwards, just a little, and Peter couldn’t help but feel he was being defensive.

Because, looking between Elias’ legs, the man didn’t have a cock as Peter had expected. Instead, between his legs spread open to accommodate Peter, he was shining wet in the low light of the suite.

“Unexpected, but not unworkable.” Peter said, teasing just ever so slightly. He brought his hand up to rub gently at the crease where Elias’ thigh met his hip, more aware than ever of how big and clumsy his fingers were. “Is this ok?”

“Well, I did say I wanted you to fuck me.” Elias was being snide, but Peter could see the way that his shoulders relaxed back into the bed and the troubled look eased off his features.

“I’m sure that could be arranged,” Was the only warning that Peter gave Elias before his broad hands slipped around to grab Elias’ ass and lever his hips clear off the bed.

Elias shouted for a quick moment, not at all used to being blindsighted, before he instinctively threw his flailing legs over Peter’s wide shoulders- they fit there like they belonged- and stared wide-eyed down at his husband hovering between his legs.

The first touch of Peter’s tongue against Elias had them both groaning softly. Elias flushed a little where he laid as he was unable to muffle his noises with a free hand, they were both too busy holding him up and clenching the sheets in anticipation. Peter muffled his noises against Elias, which had him shaking already with the vibrations that it sent up his arched spine.

Peter lathed big, broad, eager strokes of his tongue over Elias, maximising the area of contact and triggering every one of Elias’ most sensitive nerves. Peter’s tongue was chilled, and it made Elias shudder just that little bit extra to feel it, cool and alien, dragging along the heat between his legs.

Elias was fighting the urge to throw his head back and screw his eyes shut, luxuriate in the pleasure. But every time he glanced down at Peter, the man was staring at him, straight between his legs, eyes cataloguing every tiny twitch, memorising the way that Elias reacted to his tongue. And to Elias, being so thoroughly watched and studied sent a thrill through his gut just as strong as the actual physical contact. He could almost feel Peter’s gaze stroking him alongside his tongue and Elias moaned unashamedly at the thought, clenching uselessly around nothing.

Peter growled against him and laid Elias’ hips back on the bed, pulling his mouth back to wipe it clean on the back of his hand.

Elias very nearly growled back as Peter withdrew his mouth and made his way back up along Elias’ body. But then Peter was kissing him, deeply and unhurriedly, shoving his tongue skillessly into Elias’ mouth, making Elias taste himself between them.

Elias grabbed roughly at Peter’s hair, holding his head in place for them to devour each other, bodies rolling and bucking and desperate to get some friction between them. And then he felt Peter’s calloused fingers tracing firmly over his entrance, his hand having snaked down between them to rub and tease at the wetness against Elias’ skin.

Elias rumbled a low noise against Peter’s mouth and bit, perhaps too harshly, at his lip. Peter, infuriatingly, chuckled back at him and slowly pushed one finger into Elias.

Elias was tight and hot around him, and suddenly Peter was reminded of the searing heat of Elias’ mouth that he’d desperately wanted to sink into. He supposed this would be even better.

Elias gasped when Peter curled his finger upwards, stroking along the textured wall as delicately as his big fingers would allow. The way that Elias was pushing back against Peter’s hand, he supposed Elias didn’t much mind about the size of his fingers anyway.

And so Peter gave him another, and another; slowly, torturously, he felt Elias leak and drip and soak between his fingers and across his palm. Peter ground the heel of his hand against Elias’ clit, crooking his fingers inside of him, rubbing at the sensitive spot while he also stimulated him from the outside. Elias’ back arched clear off the bed and twisted back and forth, grinding his hips uselessly. He let his mouth drop wide open and a desperately needy sound rang through the air between them. 

_ “Ah!” _ Elias shouted, and Peter snapped.

He eased his fingers out of Elias and brought them up to his husband’s mouth between them. Elias gave him a half-hearted glare and huffed out an annoyed sound, but grabbed Peter’s hand by the wrist and licked his fingers clean one by one.

“Good boy” Peter hummed. Elias snorted derisively, but he looked away as his cheeks grew pink.

“Condoms are in the drawer.” Elias muttered. “Hurry up before I change my mind.”

Peter smirked at him, unbearably smug as he pulled back to rifle through the selection in the drawer. Elias rolled his eyes when he saw Peter retrieve a ‘large’, but he made no comment. Peter’s smile only widened, he knew Elias wouldn’t change his mind, he was too far gone by this point.

Peter was perfunctory in sliding the condom onto himself, the time spent between Elias’ legs had worked him up more than he cared to admit, and one overly luxurious stroke could end the evening right there.

Elias was spread before him, laid back over the soft sheets, skin flushed and slick and shining against the dark fabrics. His legs were parted wide, waiting for Peter to resume his place between them. His eyes stared up at his husband, half lidded and conveying clearer than anything else that Peter had better resume his work before Elias finishes it for him.

Taking his place once more, Peter felt Elias’ legs wrap around his waist, encouraging their hips to slot together. Peter laid his cock against the hot line of Elias’ core, hissing into the quiet of the room as he gave an experimental grind along the soaked skin.

Elias groaned low and bared his teeth, and Peter knew he was out of patience.

Peter ran a hand between them and held himself at the base as he slowly pushed in.

Sinking into Elias was like dipping into a hot bath. First the heat constricted around the head of Peter’s cock, and he had to take a long moment to catch his breath. Elias’ heels dug into his back as he urged Peter to continue. Peter just rocked forward and back minutely for a moment, stretching Elias and getting himself ready for the rest of the plunge. Elias braced a hand against the headboard and leveraged himself back against each small thrust.

As Peter pushed himself in the rest of the way, the air fled completely from both sets of lungs, their moans mingling in the barest space between them before they were sucked back in. Elias’ free hand came up to cling at Peter’s shoulder and he pulled Peter down to kiss him.

The kiss was slow, and it reminded Peter more of their first kiss as a married couple- performed at the ceremony earlier that day- than it did any of the hungry kisses they’d shared since.

“Sentimental.” Peter hummed, pressed head to toe against his new husband. He bumped his nose softly against Elias’.

“Maybe I just needed a second to adjust.” Elias argued, but he nudged Peter with his own nose in return.

When Peter began to pull out, Elias gasped at the slow, delicious drag of it.

“Did you need more than a second, darling?”

“Shut up.” Elias glared at him and tightened his legs around Peter’s hips. “Just fuck me before I throw you out.”

Peter slid back in, winding a hand under Elias’ hips to guide himself in at a better angle. Elias gasped aloud again.

“Promises, promises.”

Their pace was slow to start, because Peter worried about the way that Elias’ eyebrows furrowed on every particularly rough motion of his hips. 

But then Elias let go of Peter’s shoulder to bring both hands up to brace himself against the headboard, and began to rock back into every thrust. He met Peter’s eye and a silent taunt passed between them.

Peter sat back on his heels; from this position he was far more able to grab at Elias’ thin hips and pull him down firmly with each movement. Peter lifted Elias’ hips right off the bed and began fucking into him in earnest, he watched intently at how Elias abandonned all hope of leveraging himself and just grasped desperately at the sheets as Peter held him in place.

Every rough thrust inwards punched a sound from Elias which, to his horror, only seemed to be growing more and more embarrassing.

_ “Fuck!” _ Elias cried, breathlessly as one of Peter’s hands came down to rub circles over his clit. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Elias registered that Peter was holding him up with only one hand pressed firmly at his lower back. The thought alone pulled a long, drawn-out groan from deep within his chest as he glanced down at the muscles bulging in Peter’s arms.

Elias Knew that Peter was close, but he knew that he, himself, was closer.

“God, Peter” Elias’ voice was breathy and high, and he couldn’t find it in him to be embarrassed as the heat tensed in his gut and he ached so sweetly where his husband split him open. “I’m going to cum.”

Peter could only growl in response. He ducked his head and redoubled his efforts, thumb massaging at Elias’ clit rhythmically, thrusting in with a renewed fervor as the hot, wet muscles began to tense around him.

Both of them felt it like an earthquake when Elias came.

Elias himself felt his head snap back and his eyes screw shut. The initial  _ snap _ of the tension within him had him shouting Peter’s name as his fingers tore at the bed sheets. Every wave that rolled over him afterwards eased a breathless moan from between his widely parted lips as he gasped for air under the heavy blanket of his own pleasure.

Peter had never heard sweeter cries in his life. The deescalating noises that Elias let slip as he came down were even more intoxicating than the spasms around his cock.

Peter barely lasted a moment longer. Elias was still panting out the occasional gasp when Peter pulled his husband’s hips flush to his own and held them there, grinding deeply and clutching so hard at Elias that he was sure he’d leave bruises. He ducked his head down to rest against Elias’ sternum as the both of them struggled to catch their breath.

Peter pulled himself out excruciatingly slowly and lowered Elias back down onto the bed. He started down at his husband and his husband stared back up at him.

Elias was beautiful like this. Well, Elias was beautiful in many ways. But spread out, boneless, flushed, marked, thighs filthy with his own desire. It made Peter want to propose again.

It made Peter want to spend the night. Which somehow felt even more outrageous.

Peter slipped his condom off and Elias gestured to the wastepaper basket under the desk while he rose as much as he could to wipe himself off with some tissues from the bedside drawer.

Peter brought the basket back with him and allowed Elias to deposit the used tissues in it before he tucked it back under the desk.

Peter hovered awkwardly by the side of the bed. Elias just rolled his eyes and slipped in under the covers, flipping them open for Peter to climb in beside him.

“I can’t promise I’ll be good at cuddling.” Peter echoed his words from earlier.

“Well,” Elias grabbed him by the hand and dragged him into the soft bed. His snark was back, but he was tinged with a softness. “I suppose we have the rest of our lives to practice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank u for reading ily


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